


Tomorrow Belongs to Us

by magenta



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Glam Rock RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Germany, M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magenta/pseuds/magenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Would throwing it all away be worth it, just for a chance at freedom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow Belongs to Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "WWII AU: I'll give some leeway here, but I'd REALLY like Adam to be a jew trying to escape/survive Nazi Germany and Tommy is either hesitantly sympathetic or actually involved with the Nazi party in some way" in the teamlambliff AU meme on Livejournal. Title is a slightly altered version of a song from "Cabaret".
> 
> There are mentions of violence and past character death, though not a major character.

_ **Adam** _

The music floated through the air, muted horns and cat calls filtering into the backstage area where Adam was getting ready. He carefully applied his makeup, hiding the dark circles rimming his eyes with a thick concealer before rifling through his bag for a stubby kohl pencil. As he leaned in close to the mirror to outline his eyes with the pencil, he sighed deeply. He was bone-tired, working every night till the wee hours of the morning, getting barely two hours of sleep a night ... but it was necessary.

His lips were painted red, his cheekbones highlighted and contoured until he barely looked like himself, but then, that was kind of the point. He'd lost track of how many years he'd been performing, but he remembered the exact day, the exact hour that he walked into this building, remembered the reason he gave up so much. There was no way he could forget.

_He'd been only 18 when he left his parents' house, far out in the country, miles away from any kind of culture. Adam had hopped on a train to Berlin with everything he owned in a small leather bag, and nothing more than a few weeks worth of salary in his pocket. He wanted to be a star, wanted to be on stage in the cabarets, wanted to see his name in lights in the big city, so he said goodbye to everything he knew. He waved a tearful goodbye to his mother, his father refusing to even come to the train station, a final show of authority over his oldest, headstrong son._

Adam's eyes grew wide and eager as the city rolled into view, the flatness of the countryside replaced by buildings that Adam imagined housed all sort of wonderful things. He imagined he could hear the music of the cabarets floating through the air, drawing customers into small smoky rooms where women and men danced and sang and performed on the stages, wearing the kinds of clothes that Adam had never seen in real life, but knew were fabulous. Adam was going to be on one of those stages, he was made for it, and he had a plan. He pulled a small folded piece of paper from his pocket, going over the steps in his head again and again, as if thinking the words would make them happen.

It wasn't quite as easy as all that, and Adam had to put in some time working as a waiter in a small cafe in order to pay the rent on the tiny room he leased upstairs. He shared the apartment with other struggling artists, all of them working such strange hours that Adam wasn't even sure if he'd recognize them on the street. Finally, he got his big break, when a local cabaret had a night where anyone could sign up to perform, for a small fee. Adam scraped together the money, going without food for a few days and feeling more than a little weak when he arrived to the club. But as soon as he felt the stage lights warm his skin, he was energized as he sang and performed better than he ever had before, the men and the women in the club on their feet when he was finished, a wide smile spreading across his face.

That was his first job, a few nights a week in that small dingy club, but it didn't last long. The club was packed every night that he was there, standing room only when they put his name on the posters outside. Adam soon had his choice of places to perform, and he climbed quickly to the top of the pack, drawing huge crowds to whichever club he was performing in. The first day that he arrived to a club and saw his name lit up on the marquee he burst into laughter on the street, and hurried inside to write a postcard to his mother, wishing she could see it for herself. He was a bonafide star, the king of Berlin cabaret.

So how did he end up in this hole in the wall club outside the city, patronized by low-level military and people just looking to throw their money at anything in stockings? Adam was hiding, and trying to do it in plain sight. When Hitler first took power, Adam was sure he'd be fine. He was Jewish on his mother's, sure, but no one in Berlin knew that and he was lucky to have inherited his father's name. But when Adam started seeing his friends disappear, friends who weren't even Jewish, he suddenly realized he belonged on the Nazis' list for two reasons.

In the beginning, he stopped taking lovers, living several months celibate and alone in his apartment and making sure to only be seen cozying up to female patrons in the clubs he worked in. But as more and more people began to disappear from the city, Adam began to get nervous. Was having his name in lights just begging for trouble? Was it going to the draw the Nazis to him even sooner? He knew he should leave, but where could he go? He couldn't go home, hell, he didn't even know if his family would still be there. His heart clenched at the thought, but he didn't let himself dwell on it. His dad and his brother were smart, sometimes too smart for their own good, and they would've figured out how to get away, they had to.

So, Adam did the only thing he knew how to do. He performed, going back to the kind of tiny clubs he'd started in, the ones that were on the very edge of the city. He moved into a new apartment, one where he was alone, feeling like the fewer people he had close to him, the better off he'd be. A coffee can that he kept under his bed was home to the few _marks_ that he was able to save, hoping eventually he'd make enough to get out of the country, but secretly thinking that he would run out of time before that ever happened. He stopped performing under his own name, and spent hours in the library poring over books of names desperate to find one that felt right, even though he felt his heart ache when he dropped his own name.

Adam hoped that his new name would give him strength, and help him to be brave and his finger stopped moving down the page when he reached _Everard_. It meant brave, and it was simple but when he rolled it around his mouth it felt strong. He closed the book and said the name once, twice, three times out loud, letting himself get used to the sound and that night he found a new club to perform in, giving them only his new name when asked. They pressed him for more, obviously realizing there was more to the story, but after hearing him sing, Adam could see their eyes flash green, thankful that even in these terrifying times, greed still overruled most other emotions.

It would be an exaggeration to say that Adam slept easily that night, or to say that he felt safe, but as he climbed into his small bed and pulled the thin blanket over his chest, at least he knew he was doing everything that he could to keep himself alive.

That night was imprinted into Adam's mind, more than two years and half a dozen clubs later. Adam had just celebrated his 25th birthday, alone and with no fanfare, treating himself to fresh bread to celebrate seven years of performing, and two years of hiding and staying alive. Tonight, he laced up his high boots and put on his stage smile, the joy of performing somehow never diminishing, the stage lights still warming his skin and energizing him in the same way they had all those many years ago.

"And now, meine damen und herren, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Everard!"

Adam burst onto the stage, strutting his way to the centre and sweeping his arms out towards the crowd. The small apartment full of tinned food and stale bread was where he slept, but this, this tiny smoky stage, this was his home.

_ **Tommy** _

Tommy walked through the door of the club, his eyes watering a little at the cloud of thick smoke hovering in the room. He tugged awkwardly on his jacket, the uniform still feeling odd on his frame, despite the many months of slipping into it every morning. Today had been his first day at his new post, one that was supposed to be more longterm, and the other soldiers had brought the new recruits to the local club. There weren't many options for "approved" outings, and Tommy was just glad that he could get a decent glass of whiskey, and maybe see a good show.

They piled into a booth not far from the stage, and Tommy curled his fingers loosely around his glass. He laughed when he was supposed to, nodded and smiled when appropriate, and generally just tried to fit in. He hadn't been in the military very long, but he was still pretty sure he was never going to fit in with the rest of Hitler's men. He was pretty sure the reason that he was in the service was pretty different from the other men at his table, and blending in was key if he was going make it out the other side.

Just then, the room lights dropped and the stage lights grew bright, tinted just slightly blue. The announcer's voice was loud and clear, resonating through the small room and Tommy swivelled his head to watch the stage.

"And now, meine damen und herren, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Everard!"

The man that strode onto the stage was tall and lean, his face shadowed by the brim of his downturned bowler. Tommy's eyes slid down his body, taking in his bare chest where it was framed by his open-necked shirt, tucked into pants that seemed impossibly thin. The man's long legs were covered to the knee in black leather boots, and his hands and arms were wrapped in black silk gloves as they reached out towards the audience. He tipped his head up, a coy smile on his face as the light bounced off his cheekbones, and Tommy nearly stopped breathing. That man standing on that stage ... he was a living example of why Tommy was in this uniform, why Tommy was pretending to believe in ideals that condemned him.

_The first time Tommy was caught he was only 13, and his father had walked in on him in the bathroom. The magazine clutched in one hand was open to an advertisement for some sporting event, an illustration of athletic German men in shorts and sleeveless shirts. Tommy winced every time he sat down for several days after that, his father's belt sparing no inch of skin. But none of the lashes were as painful as the words spilling from his father's lips, telling him he was going to Hell, and that he was a disgrace to his family and to his country._

After that, Tommy hid it better, stuffing the magazines under his mattress and only pulling them out when the house was dark and quiet. As he got older, he spent less and less time at home, hanging out in coffee shops with kids from school, going to their houses whenever he could. He lost his virginity when he was 17 to an older man with dark hair and broad hands whose name he forgot almost immediately, stealing out of his house while he was in the bathroom. He blinked as he walked out of the house, surprised to find that it was still early afternoon. He slunk into his house and moved quickly to the shower, scrubbing himself clean till he was sure his father wouldn't smell another man on him.

The second time Tommy was caught came pretty soon after his experience with that older man. Tommy's parents were supposed to be gone for the day, and he took advantage by bringing home a small, nervous boy whose freckled skin was so fair Tommy could swear it was translucent. The boy's moans drowned out the sound of Tommy's parents coming through the front door, but nothing could've drowned out the sound of his cries as Tommy's father beat him right there. It hurt more to watch the red marks and bruises raise up on the young boy's skin than it ever did when Tommy was being beaten himself, but the worst part was the fear that kept Tommy rooted to his spot, pressed into the corner of his bed, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream.

Finally, Tommy's father's arm stopped raining blows down on the boy, and he straightened up looking at Tommy with a calm and level gaze. "You have one hour before I come back. If you both aren't gone when I return ..." He didn't need to finish the sentence for Tommy to understand what he was saying, and as soon as the door to the room was shut, Tommy leapt off the bed and ran to the boy on the floor. He was bleeding and he was bruised, but he was breathing and alive. Tommy held him as gently as he could, sobbing out apologies into his shoulder until the boy stopped shaking, his fingers gripping into Tommy's wrist.

His voice was thin and reedy when he spoke, but it was insistent, and Tommy listened. "We have to go. He'll kill us if we don't."

Tommy nodded, and tugged him to his feet, gingerly helping him into his clothes before getting dressed himself, and tossing everything he could fit into a small duffle bag. He took the boy's hand and led him downstairs, through the living room where Tommy's father was sitting calmly in a chair, his fingers clutching a bottle of whiskey. Three days before Tommy's 18th birthday, he walked out of his house for the last time, and into a world that was going to hate him and probably eat him alive. All he brought to the city with him was fifty marks, and the small, freckled boy and it would have to be enough.

That boy's name was Max, and together he and Tommy found themselves a small apartment in the city, brought together by violence, but kept together by a kind of love. Seeing Max's smooth, calm face every morning was something that Tommy looked forward to, and at night Tommy would reverently run his hands over Max's skin, scarred from the beating years ago, but still luminous and pale in the moonlight. They were poor, but they were happy, and if life wasn't always easy, it was always good.

They'd lived peacefully and happily together for 6 years, and even if they did grow nervous when Hitler came to power, they rarely gave it a second thought. Not until that day that Tommy came home and found his apartment door hanging broken on the hinges. He dropped the groceries on the landing and ran into the apartment, shouting Max's name. His voice trailed off when he took in the sight in front of him, every drawer turned out, chairs and table overturned, lamps and dishes broken, and worst of all, blood smeared across the floor of the kitchen.

Tommy saw a boot print in the blood, and slid to the floor resting his back against the stove. Had someone turned them in? Of course, they'd known the Nazis were going after gays as well as Jews, but this? It didn't make sense; why them? Why Max? The sob that bubbled out of Tommy's chest surprised him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to silence it, letting the tears flow down his cheeks to puddle on the floor. He wasn't strong enough to do this alone, not without Max. He spent that night in a cheap hotel, curled around the same duffle bag he'd left his parents house with all those years ago. The next morning he carried that bag with him to the local military office and signed his life away to support a party whose ideals had destroyed his life.

And now, here he was months later, wool uniform rubbing itchy against his skin, eyes trained on the man on stage who had brought all these memories back in a rush. He didn't really look anything like Max, except for the pale skin and the sprinkling of freckles on his chest that Tommy could just see when the light hit him the right way. _Everard_, Tommy thought as he watched, more than a little mesmerized by the way he moved across the stage, hips swaying loosely to the music. And his voice ... Tommy was pretty sure he'd never heard anything like, nothing so effortless and easy, but almost miraculous too. He didn't realize he was staring until he felt a sharp elbow in his rib cage, a soldier whose name he didn't yet know trying to get his attention.

"See something you like there, Ratliff?" His voice was snide, and Tommy felt his heart beat speed up more than a little.

"No, it's just ... my first time in a cabaret, taking it all in." Tommy's smile was thin, but it was enough. The men around the table launched into stories about all the raunchy, dirty things they'd seen in clubs like this one, and Tommy sat back against the booth, afraid to turn around to watch the man on stage, but letting himself just listen to his voice.

Over the next few weeks, Tommy jumped at every chance he could to go to the cabaret and see Everard perform, even if he kept his real motivations to himself. Now, he made sure to sit on the side of the booth that faced the stage so that he could sneak glances at Everard over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling like a teenager all over again, shoving his magazines under his mattress. He catcalled the ladies with the rest of the men, because of course they were beautiful and talented too, even if he suspected that outside of the soft, flattering stage lighting and glitzy costumes, things might not be quite what they seemed.

Whenever Everard wasn't on stage, Tommy took on the job of getting drinks for everyone, waving his hand when the others insisted they could just wave over a waitress. Truth be told, he needed a break from their conversations. He could only listen to them pontificate about the _Fuhrer_ and his ideals, and talk about the horrors that the Jews and the gays and how many other groups were going to bring down upon Germany before he wanted to punch every single one of them ... but that wouldn't exactly help his cause.

Instead, he sidled up to the bar, taking his time, usually having a drink or two before bringing a tray back to the table. On one of his early visits to the club, he'd met a brassy bartender named Mia, all curves pulled in with a corset, pale breasts pushing over the top and dark hair spilling down in contrast. She had a big mouth and a loud, easy laugh, and Tommy instantly liked her. Whenever she was there, his night was even better and she managed to make him forget all the things he wanted to forget.

"Hey there soldier, what can I get ya?" Her smile was wide, and before she'd finished the sentence she was pushing a glass of whiskey across the bar. She leaned down, resting her elbows on the edge of the bar and looked up at him. "You guys sure do come here a lot. There a reason for that?"

Tommy took a big swallow of his whiskey and smiled back; it always came easy when it was aimed at Mia. "Well, I don't know about them, but I come for the whiskey ... and the conversation." He winked at her, his heart swelling at the sound of her laugh.

Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, before gesturing towards the stage. The lights were dim, the blue hue highlighting a stool set in the middle, soon to be occupied by the reason Tommy really came here. "You sure there isn't more to it than that?"

Tommy's eyes widened, and he started to stand up, stopping when he felt Mia's hand, gentle but firm on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, sit. It'll be our little secret, yeah? I promise, I won't tell ... but just between you and me, I bet if he got a look at you ..." Mia stepped back, letting her eyes move up and down Tommy's frame in an exaggerated fashion, a low whistle escaping her lips.

He let himself relax back into the stool, a soft laugh bubbling out of him, only a little hysterical. In a world where nothing made sense, and no one could be trusted ... Tommy found himself trusting Mia, wanting to believe that she'd keep her word. That night, he watched Everard's performance from the back, letting his eyes go soft in the safety of the darkness, taking in every hip swivel and letting every note that flowed from Everard's lips take root in his brain.

When it was over, and he turned back to the bar, Mia was staring at him with a look that could almost be called sad. "Oh, honey. You've got it bad." She reached across the bar and squeezed his shoulder. "You should come back alone sometime, tell your buddies over there you're coming to see me. I can see them watching us." She waggled her fingers at the soldiers sitting in Tommy's booth, leaning over the bar to give them the best view of her cleavage.

Tommy felt his cheeks flush a little at the idea, but had to give Mia credit; it really was kind of a brilliant plan. "That's a pretty good plan." He let his hand move across the bar and slide up Mia's arm until he could tangle his fingers in her hair. He pulled her over the bar and pressed their lips together, the kiss lasting only a few seconds, but more than enough to pull the breath from their lungs. He could hear his fellow soldiers yelling and clapping from his table, and in that moment he knew that this plan would work.

Mia pulled away from him, her laugh ringing out loud and clear as she reached for glasses to pour out a round for his table. "You keep kissing like that and I may want to keep you for myself." She tapped a finger against the tip of his nose, and pushed the tray towards him, leaning in to whisper one final thing. "Come tomorrow. I hear he has something special planned, so get here early."

He walked quickly back to the table, arriving to a slew of congratulations and questions that he smiled and laughed through, when all he could think of was tomorrow. That night when he was alone in his quarters he let his mind wander, and for the first time in a long time he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

_ **Adam** _

Adam's heart was beating a little quicker tonight as he got ready for the show, the same way it always did when he did something new. He'd spent a little of his savings and many hours on a new outfit for tonight, a few new songs getting added to his repertoire. Just because he couldn't risk playing in a big club at the centre of Berlin anymore, didn't mean he couldn't put on the best damn show possible in this little out of the way place. He stood up on front of the mirror, turning from side to side taking in his outfit, a small smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. It was perfect.

He stood quietly, taking enough deep breaths that his heart slowed and his muscles loosened. His fingertips started to tingle like they always did in this moment, and he shook his hands to let the tingle spread upward and through his entire body. His skin was thrumming with energy, and he took his place in the wings, holding that energy back just enough that it would burst forth when he hit the stage.

The drums began to rumble and he could just see the rest of the band licking their lips, lifting their horns in preparation to play, and Adam felt heat began to pool in his belly. He couldn't even begin to remember the last time he'd made love, or really had even thought about it, but this felt pretty close. He rested his hand over his stomach just for a moment, just to feel the flutters of excitement there, before he lifted his head and strutted out onto the stage. He felt more alive tonight than he had in months, maybe even in years, and he was ready to put on the show of his life.

_ **Tommy** _

Out in the club, Tommy was just walking through the doors. He felt even more conspicuous in his uniform when he was alone, imagining the grey wool glowing like some kind of horrible beacon. He walked right to the bar, smiling when Mia turned around, glass of whiskey already in her hand.

"How'd you know I was here?" Tommy took the drink and swallowed a quick mouthful, shutting his eyes and letting the burn relax the muscles in his chest.

"Didn't, but I should probably lie and tell you I'm psychic, right?" Mia leaned over the bar to kiss Tommy on the cheek, her full lips soft and leaving a smear of red on his skin. She nodded her head towards the stage and refilled Tommy's glass. "You're going to want a seat up close tonight, trust me. I was in here when he rehearsed."

"What's he got planned?" Tommy spoke to Mia, but kept his eyes trained on the stage as if he could divine something just by looking at it.

"Wouldn't be fun if I spoiled the surprise! Now go, before all the good seats fill up." Mia pushed Tommy off his stool, shooing him in the direction of the stage. He threw one last smile her way before putting on his serious soldier face and making his way to the front of the room. He found a chair near the front, but far off to the side where he had a good view of the stage, but he was still partly shadowed. You never know who was in a room, and if his time in Hitler's service had taught him anything, it was that you could never be too careful.

On cue, the houselights dropped and the trademark blue lights filtered onto the stage. The music started, a low rumbling drum beat that seemed to shake the floor beneath Tommy's feet. When the horns came in, Everard stepped out of the wings, his back facing the audience. The lights caught a subtle shimmer all through his outfit, shiny pants clinging tightly to his long legs and a short tail coat draped over his shoulders. As the music built up, his foot began to tap out the rhythm, his low-heeled boots making a distinctive clicking sound on the floor.

When he turned around to face the crowd, Tommy nearly dropped his drink on the floor. Everard's chest was bare, except for a black bowtie, and a pair of suspenders. The lapels of his tail coat were absolutely covered in sequins, tossing little rainbows all over the wall of the club, and then Tommy's eyes found Everard's face. His lips were painted a bright, nearly obscene red, making his lips look fuller and poutier than should be allowed. His cheekbones were sharply contoured, something shiny across the top, highlighting every plane and angle of his face. And his eyes ... they were always something special, but tonight, Tommy was mesmerized.

The usual black kohl was present, but tonight there was more. Tommy had never seen anything like what Everard had on his eyes before, and if someone had asked him, he'd never be able to describe it. His eyelids were sparkly, glinting blue and purple in the light and making the blue of his eyes nearly glow. His lashes were impossibly long and dark, fluttering open and shut as he looked around the room, taking in the expressions of the people watching him.

He opened his mouth and started to sing, a stunningly slow and beautiful ballad that hung in the air like fog over a river, and when Tommy looked behind him he saw that nearly everyone in the crowd was leaning forward, trying to get closer, to feel it even more. Tommy was lost in it himself, his heart pounding hard, even though he couldn't remember the last time he felt this calm. He hung on Everard's every word and every note, the blood rushing in his ears every time his voice slid up to the high notes and when the music stopped, Tommy felt like he was falling and he hoped he never hit bottom.

_ **Adam** _

Adam stood silently in the middle of the stage for several minutes, the applause in the small club nearing thunderous. His eyes searched the crowd again, the house lights going up just enough that he he could make out faces. His eyes caught on the man sitting in the front corner, and for a split second his heart stopped. He wasn't surprised to see the uniform, he knew that soldiers frequented this club. What shocked him was the look on the soldier's face, soft and open and _intrigued_, and not in the least bit predatory.

It took every ounce of Adam's strength to stand on stage and take his bows, before calmly exiting into the wings and sitting down heavily backstage. He had more songs to do, but as he looked at himself in the mirror, he saw the panic clear in his eyes. Was that man here for him? Had someone found him out? He didn't think that someone who came to kidnap him would watch him from the front row with misty eyes ... but he had learned to always be wary.

When he stepped back onto the stage for the rest of his set, he let his eyes drift to the man in the corner again and again, trying to catch him with the hard look of a soldier on his face, but he never did. It was always that same gentle gaze, but with a certain kind of fire behind his eyes, lips parted just enough that Adam imagined he could see the soldier's pink tongue. Adam couldn't help but be more than a little intrigued, no matter how much his brain told him to _think_ and not _feel_. When he shut his eyes that night in bed, he saw blonde hair and brown eyes, and he tried not to see the sharp grey jacket that hung on those slim shoulders.

_ **Tommy** _

Tommy was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He saw the way Everard's back straightened, the way his shoulders squared off when he caught Tommy's eyes during his show. Tommy cursed himself for listening to Mia and sitting so close to the front, he'd never even wanted Everard to know he was there, let alone to be scared of him. What did he think would happen, sitting so close to the stage, uniform thrown into relief by the lights?

He snuck out of the club that night, not even stopping to say goodbye to Mia before slinking home and back into his quarters. He managed to avoid the other guys at least until the morning, when over breakfast he did his best to spin a little tale about where he'd been and what he'd done. He felt a twinge of guilt in his chest as he told the guys about how Mia brought him out into the alley behind the club, the rough street tearing her stocking as she got down in front of him ... but he reminded himself that it was her idea in the first place, and he made sure to tell them that she was amazing.

That night, when the rest of the guys were crowded around the radio, flipping between news and something that sounded like a soap opera, Tommy got ready, dressing in street clothes. He'd spent longer than he'd care to admit in front of mirror with a comb, urging his hair into a smooth swoop across his forehead. Apparently he'd been flattening it with his hat for long enough that it didn't want to cooperate. He finally tamed it with enough pomade to wax every banister in the building, buttoned up his newly pressed shirt and slid his arms into a well-worn jacket. He let his hands slide over the time-softened material, and he remembered the history of the jacket.

_He and Max were celebrating; it had been one year since that day at Tommy's parents house, and Max felt it should be remembered. They'd scrimped and saved for weeks to be able to afford a bottle of cheap wine and a decent meal, and even though they'd agreed not to get each other anything, neither had been able to resist. Tommy walked into their apartment that afternoon, garment bag clutched proudly against his chest and he called Max into the kitchen. Seeing the look on Max's face as he slid his arms into the jacket was well worth the meals that Tommy had skipped, and he looked so handsome. Sure, maybe the jacket was a bit big through the shoulders and a bit long, but in Tommy's eyes it was perfect._

Max had lifted up on his toes to kiss Tommy softly on the lips before running out of the room, and Tommy had nearly collapsed when he saw what Max had in his hands. It was old and battered, and it was missing a few strings, but it was a **guitar**, a guitar that was Tommy's. His fingers moved reverently over the strings that remained, and the melody that drifted out was beautiful, even if it wasn't. Their food had gotten cold that night, but the wine had been finished on the floor of their living room, Max's head pillowed on Tommy's shoulder as he strummed softly.

Tommy shook his head and looked back into the mirror, trying to clear the last image he had of that guitar, lying smashed in the corner of their ruined apartment, out of his head. He straightened the lapels of Max's jacket one last time against his own shoulders and headed downstairs, wary of every creak in the staircase before stepping outside into the cool night. The walk to the club was short, but it seemed to take forever, every sound making Tommy jump and turn, worried he was being followed.

He felt a weird kind of comfort walking into the club that night, like a knot he didn't even know was tied in his chest was unwinding. Tonight, he pulled up a stool to the bar, smiling as Mia walked over to him, familiar glass of whiskey on her hand.

"Looking good tonight, soldier. Got a date?" Mia's eyes twinkled as she pushed the glass towards him, leaning over the bar.

"Not really. Just felt like being more myself tonight." Tommy really wasn't up for explaining the fear he'd seen in Everard's eyes the night before, and since even he didn't know what he had planned for tonight ... he left it there, sipping his whiskey slowly.

He talked easily to Mia, about everything and about nothing, and it felt good to have a conversation out of uniform, to feel a little freer than he had in months. The whiskey flowed, and by the time the blue lights shone on the stage, Tommy was feeling pleasantly warm and loose. He felt his mouth drop open a little as he watched Everard perform, but he couldn't seem to make himself close it, eyes a little blurry but totally focused on every move he made across the stage.

When the lights went back down and the roar from the crowd dulled, Tommy felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He shook his head and turned, finding Mia's face mere inches from his own, a smile on her face that was equal parts fondness and something he thought might be pity.

"Honey, don't tell anyone I told you this, but if you go wait in the alley to the left of the building ... that's where he comes out. Stand under the light so you don't scare him to death, okay?" She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek again, and walked away, leaving Tommy more than a little dumbfounded.

He stood, wiping his now sweaty palms on his pants and readjusting his jacket before heading for the door. As he feet carried him out the door and back into the cool night, his brain ran a hundred miles a minute, listing all the reasons that this was the worst idea he ever had. Was he really going to risk his life for a cabaret performer? Was he going to throw away everything he'd so carefully built after losing Max, just because he had a fascination? He found himself standing in the yellow glow of the lamp above the stage door, and he realized the answer was yes, no matter how stupid that may be.

He waited for what felt like hours, picking at his nails and running his hands through his hair, a few long strands falling loose in front of his face. Finally, he heard the big metal door creak, and Everard's tall frame stepped out into the alley, a leather bag strapped across his chest. He turned towards Tommy and their eyes locked. The confusion that was there bled into recognition, and then into fear. Everard turned away and started to run, but Tommy was quick. He wrapped his hand around Everard's upper arm, and he went cold when he felt how immediately Everard just stopped, gave in to Tommy's grip.

"Hey, no. Don't run. I'm not ... I didn't mean ... I'm not here to hurt you, okay?" Tommy tugged Everard's arm until he turned around and looked at him. He looked up and searched Everard's face until he found his eyes, and tried to make his own eyes say the things he couldn't convince his mouth to.

It must have worked, if only a little because Everard's muscles relaxed under Tommy's fingers and his breathing started to slow. "Okay, so if you aren't here to hurt me, why are you out here lurking in the shadows? I saw you here last night, I know you're ... you're a soldier." The last word came out with a sound that was close to a hiss, and Tommy winced, mostly because he felt the same way, was disgusted with himself everyday when he buttoned up his uniform.

"I know you have no reason to believe me ... but yes, I'm a soldier but I'm not like them. Can we ... is there anywhere we can go? To talk?" Tommy looked down at the ground, Everard's searching eyes a little too much for him to take.

"I don't know why I believe you ..." Everard sighed deeply, raking his hand through his thick dark hair and shutting his eyes for a second. "There's a cafe around the corner, it's quiet and the people there ... they won't talk. Come on."

They walked in silence, Tommy just a few steps behind Everard the whole way, his heart pounding when they finally walked through the door of the cafe. Everard led him to a table in the corner, far away from the door and any of the windows.

"So, you wanted to talk." Everard gripped his mug of tea tightly, looking over Tommy with a lot of questions in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay ... well, I'm Tommy. Let's start there. And yes, I'm a solider but ... I don't, I'm not ... I didn't join because I believed it." Tommy's voice was hushed as he spoke, and he couldn't believe he was about to say this out loud. "I don't why why I'm telling you this but, I joined because ... because my lover was ... taken. I came home one day, and there was blood ... and he was gone." Tommy looked up at Everard with eyes that were just starting to fill with tears as he thought of Max, and everything he'd been through since that day.

Everard looked up from his tea and locked his eyes onto Tommy's damp ones. "He? You mean you're ... well, I wasn't expecting that." He took a sip of his tea and looked around the cafe before leaning in closer to Tommy to whisper. "I am too. And it's nice to meet you Tommy, I'm Adam."

"... Adam." In that moment Tommy realized that both of them were hiding something, and he reached his hand across the table to shake Adam's hand, rubbing his fingers just a little across the back, the skin smooth under his calloused fingertips.

_ **Adam and Tommy** _

That night, they sat in that coffee shop for hours, speaking quietly and telling each other stories. For the first time since he was taken, Tommy told Adam all about Max, starting from they day they fled Tommy's parents' house. He told him about the guitar, about the jacket he was wearing, about the day he came home to their wrecked apartment ... and the next morning, when he walked into the local Reich office and pledged his soul.

Adam told Tommy about his glory days as a star, how he was glad he at least got to see his name in lights before he had to go underground. Told him how he'd had to change his name, and how hard it was to give up something that seemed so trivial before. He told him everything he'd given up, the fame, the money, the admiration, but he also told him it was all worth it, because at least he was still alive.

"How many more like us do you think are out there? People lying to themselves and everyone around them because of who they love?" Tommy slid his foot across the floor under the table, nudging Adam's with it and smiling sadly at him.

"Probably a lot. But at least this is something you _can_ hide, or deny." Adam's eyes flicked up to Tommy's, and Tommy sat back against the booth, eyes widening.

"You mean you're ..." Tommy looked around the cafe, and even though there was no one near them, he didn't speak out loud. His lips formed the words carefully, his fingers tight around his coffee mug as he mouthed, _a Jew?_

Adam nodded, looking down into his empty mug. "You going to turn me into your buddies now? Still think I'm worth the trouble?" His voice was sharp and angry, and Tommy was taken aback.

"What? No! Of course I'm not going to ... I ... I still want to get to know you. You seem ... special, and I think I like it." Tommy took a risk, reaching across the table to grip Adam's wrist in his fingers, gently rubbing over the inside and feeling Adam's pulse gradually slow down.

"Well, you're definitely special, aren't you?" Adam sighed, pulling his hand away from Tommy to reach into his shoulder bag. "This is probably the stupidest thing I have ever done but ... here." He scrawled a few addresses onto a piece of paper and pushed it across the table to Tommy. "The top one, that's my apartment. The other is a hotel, where the people ... well, they don't talk. I know you know Mia, at the club, so if you want to see me, tell her and I'll meet you, okay?"

Tommy nodded, folding the slip of paper and tucking it carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket. "This probably is stupid, for both of us. Maybe it's just me, but something about it feels ... kind of not stupid, you know?" Tommy lips quirked into a little smile when he felt Adam's boot rub up the outside of his leg.

"Yeah, I know." Adam slid out of the booth and hefted his bag back onto his shoulder. "So, I'll see you around." The question was clear in his face even if it didn't show in his voice, and Tommy nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"Yeah, see you around." Tommy sat in the booth for several minutes after watching Adam leave, before he looked down at his watch and realized how late it was. He hurried out of the cafe and back down the street, a small spring in his step that he had missed.

When he got back home, the guys were up playing cards in the dim lamplight, and were eager with their questions when they saw him walk in, face flushed and eyes sparkling. He spun another tale about him and Mia, once again apologizing to her in his head. He let the guys toast him with more whiskey, and he was more than a little drunk when he finally fell into bed, trying to decide how long to wait before calling on Adam.

He managed to wait three days before he was pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling a time and place on it, tucking it into the pocket of his uniform. They were all going to the cabaret again that night, and Tommy figured it was probably smart not to go alone too often. As soon as they walked in the door, he headed for the bar, getting chided and elbowed by the guys who threw a lot of exaggerated winks in his direction as he pulled up a stool.

"Hey there, stranger. How'd it go the other night?" Mia pulled out a bottle of whiskey and filled on glass after another, filling up a tray for Tommy's table.

"He told me ... if I wanted to see him, to tell you?" Tommy spoke quietly, leaning over the bar far enough that he was speaking almost directly in her ear.

Mia nodded slightly, licking her lips as she turned to face him. "Yeah, I can do that. You got it written down?"

Tommy slid the piece of paper across the bar, and Mia picked it up, slipping it between her breasts and shooting a wink at the table where all of Tommy's "friends" were pretending not to be watching them. "Go sit, and don't worry. I'll tell him, and he'll be there. He always keeps his promises." Mia's lips were cool and soft against Tommy's cheek, and this time he didn't wipe the lipstick off before heading to the table, tray of whiskey in hand. The note had said for Adam to meet him at the hotel tomorrow night, and the countdown had already begun ticking in Tommy's head.

That night and the next day went slowly, and there were times Tommy would swear the clock was moving backwards. He had office duty, and he spent eight long hours sitting in the Reich office waiting for new recruits to come in and sign their lives away. He was paired with a more senior, more elite officer, and he couldn't begin to pretend that he wasn't jumpy all day, as if the man with him could read his mind, see what he was planning for tonight.

The third time Tommy nearly leapt out of his boots when the door opened, the officer placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You alright there, Ratliff?" He felt the officer's eyes sweep over him, searching and inquisitive and Tommy squared his shoulders.

"Yes, sir. Just tired, sir. I'm fine." Tommy stood still for several moments until the officer stepped back, nodding his head sharply.

"Get more sleep. We've got a lot of work to do yet, you wouldn't believe how many Jews are still out there hiding." The disgust in his voice was clear, and it took a lot of effort for Tommy to nod emphatically, agreeing.

"I think I would believe that, sir. I understand they're a very sneaky people."

"Sneaky doesn't begin to cover it, Ratliff. Now, back to the desk. We need as many recruits as we can get." He turned sharply and walked back into the small office behind the desk where Tommy sat. Tommy looked up at the clock and sighed. Three more hours.

He headed to the hotel right from the office, ducking into a cafe along the way to change into more simple clothes, stuffing his uniform into the bag he'd carried that day. He felt a weird twinge of guilt as the grey wool crumpled in a ball deep in his bag, but he just hefted the bag over his shoulder, and headed out of the cafe, making just one more stop to buy a bottle of cheap wine before arriving at the hotel and getting a room.

Only an hour or so passed before Tommy heard a knock at the door, but he was still startled, so unused to the real quiet of the hotel room. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he opened the door and saw Adam standing there, a slightly sheepish smile spread across his face as he stepped into the room, locking the door behind him.

"Hi." Tommy's voice was soft as he spoke, one of his hands moving forward to just barely brush Adam's arm.

"Hi. I have to say ... part of me was still expecting an ambush when I walked in here." Adam laughed a little, and Tommy could see the nerves begin to leave him.

"No ambush, but I did bring the cheapest wine I could find. So, I apologize for that." Tommy let himself grin at Adam, reaching over to grab the wine from his bag. "Shall we?"

They passed the bottle of wine back and forth, laying next to one another on the lumpy bed, small radio tuned to a staticky jazz station. As the level of wine in the bottle lowered, they moved closer and closer to one another until Tommy found himself tucked under Adam's arm as Adam rested the wine bottle on the floor. He ran a hand up Tommy's arm gently, turning him until he could catch Tommy's lips with his own. Tommy sighed into Adam's mouth, and opened his own eagerly, letting Adam's tongue slide in.

Their hands moved slowly over each other's bodies, letting their clothes fall gently to the floor, until they were both bare, the moonlight filtering through the window the only light in the room. As Tommy kissed his way down Adam's body, stopping to nip here and there, loving the tiny red marks that raised up on his pale skin, he couldn't help but be reminded of Max. The pale, soft skin, scattered with freckles, it was so familiar but still so different. He said a silent prayer in his head for Max, hoping that if he could see him now, Max would be happy for him. Finally, he pushed Max from his mind and flattened his tongue against Adam's hip, licking a hot stripe in the crease of Adam's thigh.

Adam groaned, and dropped his hands to tangle in Tommy's hair, pulling him up for another kiss, this one as deep and urgent as the first one had been tentative and soft. They rolled until Tommy was on his back underneath Adam and could wrap his legs easily around Adam's waist. Adam's fingers were long and cool as they wrapped around Tommy's cock as well as his own, pressing them together as he bent down to speak softly in Tommy's ear.

"What do you want, Tommy?" Adam's breath was hot and damp against Tommy's ear, and Tommy shivered at the feel of it.

"Everything." Tommy's answer was simple, but it was enough.

They moved together easily, as if they had done it a hundred times before, the crackly jazz music floating from the radio providing the perfect soundtrack. Other than that, the only noises in the room were their hitching breaths and gasps, and the slick sound of Adam moving deep in Tommy's willing body. When they came, they were silent, tears running down both of their cheeks, the moment having so much more meaning than just a physical release.

Adam bent to kiss the tears from Tommy's cheek before rolling to the side, resting a gentle hand on Tommy's chest. "We should go. We've been here too long already." He didn't make any move to actually get up, but Tommy knew he was right.

They got out of bed reluctantly, pushing their loose, sweaty limbs into their clothes and gathering up their belongings. "You go first, then I'll leave. Just in case." Tommy lifted up onto his toes and kissed Adam on the corner of his mouth, soft and easy.

Adam nodded, pulling Tommy into a tight hug for just a moment. Neither of them said it, but the thanks were clear in the way they clung to one another like they were the only thing that made sense anymore. "I'll see you soon." It wasn't a question, and as Tommy watched the door shut behind Adam, he knew it was true. His heart already ached from being away from Adam, and as scary as that was, it still felt good.

_ **Tommy** _

This time, Tommy barely managed to wait two days before he found himself scribbling out another note for Adam, desperate to see him again. As much as those blissful hours in the hotel had been amazing, Tommy was worried about doing that again. He had felt so exposed paying for the room, walking out of that building when he was done ... surely, everyone in the area knew what happened in that hotel, and Tommy was scared someone would see him. Tommy passed the note to Mia that night, draining the glass of whiskey she handed him in one swallow.

"Nervous tonight?" She tucked the slip of paper into her cleavage again after reading it, and rested her hand gently on top of Tommy's.

Tommy nodded, coughing a little from the sharp burn of the whiskey. "Scared shitless is more like it. What have I gotten myself into?"

Mia's eyes went a little soft as she tilted her head to look at him, squeezing his fingers. "Love, baby. I think you've gotten yourself into love. And yeah, it was probably stupid ... but it's worth it, right?"

He stared at her for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the bar and speaking softly. "Yeah, it's always worth it. Even when ..." He stopped himself before he could say _it ends badly_, not yet ready to doom himself and Adam to a terrible fate. "I should ..."

"Go join your buddies? Go tell 'em all the naughty things you're going to do to me tonight, soldier. I like being your excuse." She leaned over the bar and kiss Tommy full on the lips, letting her tongue drift into his mouth just a little before pulling back.

Tommy laughed softly, brushing the back of his hand over mouth and feeling the sticky slide of lipstick left there. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Everybody does! Now go!" She thrust the usual tray of whiskey into his hands and lifted the divider, stepping out from behind the bar. "I've got some mail to deliver, so go enjoy the show."

Two hours later, after a lot of mostly good-natured teasing from the soldiers and one hell of a show from Adam, Tommy was standing in the alley behind the club, waiting under the yellow light like he had that first time. This time, when Adam stepped out from the stage door, he didn't try and run. He grabbed Tommy by the shoulders and pulled him into the darkness, bending down to kiss him, fast and deep.

"Hey." Tommy's voice was already breathy, his eyes going soft and blurry as he looked up at Adam's face in the dark.

"Hey yourself." Adam's thumb brushed under Tommy's lip, coming away with a red smear, Mia's lipstick still hanging around. "Thank God for Mia, huh?"

"Totally. So ... we should probably go, yeah?" Tommy looked around, feeling more than a little exposed in the alley.

"Yeah, come on, this way." Tommy followed Adam through the alley, his hands itching to reach out and touch, but resisting, shoving his hands into his pants pockets instead. Thankfully, Adam's apartment was close, and in just a few minutes Tommy was pressed against the back of Adam's door, Adam's lips travelling down his throat and mouthing at his collarbones.

_ **Adam** _

As slow and easy as it had been in the hotel, tonight was hot and desperate. Adam's teeth dug into Tommy's collarbone, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to leave any lasting marks, and Tommy let his body arch up into Adam's, begging without using any words. They left a trail of clothes through the tiny apartment, and fell together, naked onto Adam's bed.

Tommy's legs wrapped around Adam's waist and he pleaded. "Now, Adam please. Now."

Adam rocked his hips against Tommy's and moved his hand up to Tommy's mouth, pushing his fingers in to let Tommy suck them and get them wet. The way that Tommy's eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his lips around Adam's fingers made Adam wish they had the luxury of time. He wanted to see Tommy on his knees in front of him, those lips wrapped around something else ... but slow, sensual lovemaking wasn't really something they had time for.

He pushed his slick fingers into Tommy's body, running his other hand soothingly down the centre of Tommy's chest. He moved quickly, pulling his fingers out when Tommy dug his heels into Adam's back and begged for more. Tommy's body gave way beneath him, and Adam's hips pushed into him fast and hard, just on the right side of painful.

It seemed to be over almost as soon as it began, Tommy's back arching high of the bed and Adam's clear voice ringing out in a loud moan, before they slumped together on the bed in a sweaty heap. Tommy shifted on Adam's small bed until he could pillow his head on Adam's chest, his breath warm against Adam's skin.

"I don't want to leave." Tommy spoke softly, and Adam's heart nearly broke at how young he sounded.

He leaned down to kiss the top of Tommy's head softly, nosing through the soft strands. "I don't want you to leave ... but you can't stay, we both know that." He felt Tommy nod against him, and he ran his hand down Tommy's back until it rested softly in the curve of his back.

"Can we ... next time, can we have coffee or something? I have a free day coming up, we could have lunch?" Adam's heart stopped for a second when Tommy asked him that, but he knew that Tommy understood what he was saying, understood the risks ... and the risks were huge.

"I think ... I'd like that." They were slower to get out of bed than the last time, kisses and touches distracting them from putting their clothes on. They'd both fallen hard and fast, but in times like these it was the only way to fall.

_ **Adam and Tommy** _

Tommy's free day couldn't come fast enough, and the smile that spread across Adam's face when he watched Tommy walk into the cafe was worth everything they were risking today. In the bright light of day they couldn't rub hands lightly over the table, and it was risky to even touch feet, but it didn't matter. The simple act of sharing a meal and easy conversation somehow felt more intimate than anything they did in private.

For the first time since the night they met, they had the chance to talk about themselves, and for the first time ever, they got the chance to tell each other the happy stories in their pasts. The laughter came easy and often, especially from Tommy because it was clear that Adam was a born storyteller. Nothing in his life had ever just happened, everything had a dramatic slant that, coming from anyone else, would make Tommy just shake his head in disbelief. But coming from Adam, it just made sense and sounded real.

Tommy's own life sounded horribly boring in comparison, but Adam leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand, listening as intently as if the stories Tommy was telling were about something more than the day he cut his sisters hair in her sleep.

"Do you miss them? Your family?" Tommy looked up from his coffee, fingers running around the rim.

"I do, all the time. My mother and my brother especially ... and it's hard knowing, or not knowing I guess. I left them so long ago, I don't even know ..." Adam smiled sadly when he felt Tommy's fingers close around his wrist briefly before pulling back. "What about you?"

"I miss my sister, and my mother. My father ... Not even a little bit. I am grateful for what he did in a weird way though, you know? Made me who I am, let me be myself. For a while anyways." Tommy let his eyes drift outside to the street where other members of the SS patrolled the streets.

"You're still you, you're just trying to stay alive like the rest of us." Adam's hand twitched on the table, and he grabbed his mug to keep from taking Tommy in his arms right there. "What do you say we go to a movie? We have time right?"

Tommy pulled out his pocket watch and nodded. "We definitely have time, I haven't been to a movie in ... well, I don't even remember. Let's go."

It felt like a luxury, sitting in the darkened theatre for more than an hour, the world ticking by without them. They were brave in the dark, hands seeking each other out and fingers interlacing the second the house lights went down. Neither of them paid too much attention to the movie, too focused on the feel of the others hand, of their legs pressed against one another where the seats ended to keep their eyes on the screen, but if they had to pay a few marks for this moment? It was completely worth it.

Their eyes blinked blearily as they stepped out of the theatre, the sky still bright as the sun just began to dip below the horizon. They still has a few hours left in the day before Adam had to be at work, and they hurried to Adam's apartment to make the most of them.

_ **Tommy** _

The next few weeks passed in a blur, with Adam and Tommy getting together whenever they could for as long as they could, but both of them soon realized that they were being stupid. As amazing as those long meetings were, they were dangerous for both of them, and they didn't want to risk it. Tommy was becoming worse at coming up with excuses for why he was late getting home or why he was going to the club alone, the other soldiers seemingly no longer buying the idea that he and Mia were together.

All too soon, Adam and Tommy were resorting to dirty handjobs backstage at the club, or quick and silent fucks in the bathroom of the cafe, followed by whispered words of endearment and soft caresses. More often than not, they had to settle for notes passed between them by Mia, growing from small squares of paper into full letters. Tommy was frustrated, and he was angry, and he could tell people were starting to notice.

"Ratliff, what the fuck is wrong with you today?" One of the other soldiers snapped at him the third time he tripped during a routine drill.

"Nothing, nothing. Just ... I've got stuff on my mind." Tommy turned his face away, hoping the flush rising on his cheeks didn't show.

"Lady problems? That whore from the club finish with you?" The sneer on the soldier's face made Tommy want to punch him, but he relaxed his fist and spoke calmly.

"Yeah, sure. Lady problems." Tommy started walked away to continue the drill, stopping short when he felt a hand hard on his shoulder.

"You sure it's lady problems? Because I heard you were running around with that singer from the club. That big fag. Worse, I hear he might even be a Jew. Is that true Ratliff? Are you fucking him?" The soldier's fingers tightened hard around Tommy's shoulder, hard enough that Tommy could feel his bones sliding and slipping.

"Fuck you." Tommy tugged himself free, turning to face the man long enough to glare into his eyes.

"I don't hear a 'no'. I thought you were a better soldier than that, but you're a fag and a Jew-lover? Come here, listen to me. I've got a deal for you." He crooked his finger at Tommy, and despite his better judgement, Tommy stepped closer. "Now, I like you Ratliff, so here's the deal. You bring him in, and maybe I don't tell anyone else about you. Maybe you don't have to join your boyfriend in the ovens. You got three days."

Tommy stepped back, wiping away the man's spit from the side of his face. He made himself nod sharply before turning and going back to the drill, his heart pounding nearly out of his chest. When they were free to go, Tommy walked as calmly as he could until he was out of view, and then he took off running. He had to get to Adam.

_ **Adam** _

When Adam saw Tommy waiting for him in the alley behind the club so early in the evening, he was worried. When he saw how frazzled and sweaty and nervous he looked, he was even more worried.

"Tommy, what's going on? What are you -" Adam was cut off my Tommy's mouth on his, by his hands pressing him hard against the rough wall of the club. He was stunned into stillness for a few seconds, but he was able to get his brain together enough to push Tommy back. "Whoa, whoa, are you nuts? What's wrong?"

"I need you, I'm so fucking tired of this, Adam. This sneaking around, the hiding ... and someone ... I just need you, please." Tommy was leaning heavily against Adam, obviously not thinking about his actions as he ran his hands eagerly over Adam's chest.

"Okay, okay, hang on baby. Wait here, I'm going to go inside and tell them I'm not going to perform tonight, we'll go back to my place. Just ... breathe, please." Adam ran his hands through Tommy's hair over and over until he felt his breathing slow, before he stepped away. "I'll be right back."

As Adam moved quickly through the backstage area looking for someone he could tell, his heart pounded. This was something new and scary, and Tommy's feelings were so intense he didn't even know the right thing to do. He was pretty sure that skipping out on work and taking a soldier back to his apartment was as far from the right thing as possible, but it was what he was going to do.

It seemed to take hours to find the manager, and even longer to convince him that Adam really did need to go home, and no he didn't really care if he was fired, he was going home. Once the manager begrudgingly accepted that Adam was the moneymaker for the club, Adam was back out the door.

Tommy was pacing in the alley and he nearly leapt at Adam when he stepped into the alley. "Come on, let's go." Adam put his hand on the small of Tommy's back briefly, pushing him ahead as they walked quickly through the street to Adam's apartment. Adam had never been so grateful hat he lived close to the club as he was right now, and he would swear he could actually see Tommy's pulse thumping in his neck, and the muscles of his arms twitching.

When they got to Adam's apartment, things were different than they had been before. Tommy pushed Adam up against the wall next to the door, his hands tearing at Adam's clothes until they fell to the floor, piece by piece. Adam stayed still, moving only when Tommy pushed him, unsure of exactly what Tommy wanted.

Tommy's hands were insistent as he pushed Adam to the floor, pausing only long enough to get his clothes off before dropping to straddles Adam's waist, leaning in to kiss him hard and deep and not stopping until they were both gasping for breath. He rested his forehead against Adam's as he panted, begging. "Please Adam, now. I need it, please."

Adam rubbed a soft hand over Tommy's back, trying to calm him down. "Right here, on the floor?"

"Yes, Adam ... now." Tommy rolled them over, pulling Adam with him until he was settled between Tommy's legs. Adam looked down into Tommy's eyes and his heart clenched at everything he saw there. Need and lust, of course, but also a weird kind of panic, and something softer, way down deep. When he pushed into Tommy's body, he tried to be gentle, wary of the rough floorboards beneath them, but Tommy just pushed back harder, more demanding.

When Tommy came, he shouted Adam's name, sharp and high before he collapsed against the floor, sobs bubbling out of his chest. Adam watched him in horror for a split second before wrapping his arms around Tommy and pulling him close.

"Tommy, what's wrong? Talk to me, please." Adam's voice was more than a little panicked, worried for Tommy and a little for himself.

It took Tommy a few minutes to calm down enough to speak, but when he did, his words sent chills down Adam's spine. "Someone knows, Adam. One of the soldiers, he knows about us, and he ... he told me ..." Tommy trailed off, shivering hard in Adam's arms.

"Go on, baby. Tell me." Adam didn't want to hear what Tommy was about to say, but he knew he needed to.

"He said ... I had three days to bring you in, or they'd ... take us both. Adam, what do I do?" Tommy clung to Adam, not crying anymore, just holding on tight.

Adam's arms tightened around Tommy and his blood ran cold. He was silent for a few moments, but then he pushed Tommy back, looking into his eyes. "We're going to get dressed, and you're going to take me in. If it wasn't for me, you'd never be in this situation in the first place."

"No, Adam, I can't. How can I watch them take you to your death? No." Tommy shook his head resolutely, stubbornly.

"Tommy, listen." Adam's voice was soft now, but still insistent. "You can still have a life, you can still hide. I always knew this day would come for me ... gay and a Jew? I've got a target on my back and my front. It was only a matter of time."

Tommy straightened, pulling away from Adam and wiping the tears from his eyes. "You'd give up, just like that? All these years you've been hiding and _surviving_, and you'd give it up? I'm not turning you in, Adam. There has to be another way."

"It's not giving up, Tommy. It's being realistic. I can't let you throw your life away for me, I just can't. You can stay a soldier, you can come out the other side of this. That was never going to happen for me. It's okay." Adam's hands were soft as they moved on Tommy's arms, and his voice was resigned.

The look that passed across Tommy's face in that moment was something that Adam wanted to call determined, but it was so much more than that. When he spoke, his voice held every ounce of that determination. "We have three days. I'm going to figure something out, I have to. Promise me you'll lie low, okay? I'll come get you when I've ... we're going to get out of this. I love you."

"I love you too, Tommy. I'll give you the three days, but if you can't figure it out ..." Adam leaned in to wrap his arms around Tommy again, burying his noise against Tommy's throat and breathing him in.

"I will, I promise." Tommy pulled himself from Adam's arms and dressed quickly, wracking his brain for what to do. Where could he go, and who could he talk to? He kissed Adam softly, pulling out of his arms and leaving the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

_ **Tommy** _

Mia. Mia was the only person Tommy could think of to go to right now, and he didn't even know if she'd want to or be able to help him, but he had to at least tell her what was going on. When he hurried over to the bar and she saw him, the look on her face making it clear just how messy he must look.

"Tommy, honey what's wrong?" Mia never used his name, and it took a lot of willpower for him to not just crumple into her arms.

"Can we go somewhere private? To talk?" Tommy forced his voice to remain level, and darted his eyes wildly around the club, looking for anyone he recognized.

"Yeah, sure honey, come with me." Mia tugged Tommy to a small room just behind the bar, shutting and locking the door behind them. "Now, talk. What's up?"

The story spilled out of Tommy, coming quick and frantic. His hands waved and his eyes teared, and tried to avoid looking at Mia's face until he was finished. When he looked up, he didn't see the pity he expected, but rather Mia's mouth was set in a firm line, and her eyes were resolute.

"Oh, baby, you don't know how good of a decision you made coming to me." Mia reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing gently.

"What do you mean? Can you help us?" Tommy sat forward a little, heart pounding as he dared to hope.

"Haven't I always helped you? Now, this is going to sound crazy and like the biggest coincidence on the planet ... but I know some people who help get people out, and I think I can get you to them. I've brought them other people before, and as far as I know ... they all made it. Do you trust me?" Mia's eyes were warm, and a little wet as she looked at him, pouring all of her emotion into her gaze.

"Of course I trust you, Mia! Even if I didn't ... do we have a choice? Just tell me what to do, and we'll do it. Adam ... he wants me to turn him in, and I'm not. I won't." Tommy lifted his chin and set his jaw, showing strength as much as for Mia as for himself.

"You won't have to, honey. I'll do whatever I can. I need to go talk to my friend, and see if he can get you out of here soon. Can you come see me tomorrow? I should know something by then." Mia stood, pulling Tommy up with her, and into a tight hug.

"I'll be here. Thank you so much, you're amazing." Tommy stepped back and wiped new tears from his eyes, smiling sadly as Mia did the same.

"Of course I am. Now go, I've got work to do." Mia pushed Tommy from the room, and he hurried out of the club, walking home quickly, with his head down. He felt like all eyes were on him as he slipped into bed that night, and he didn't sleep a wink, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling until the morning bell rang.

His skin burned with the gazes of all the other soldiers that day, and he knew that they knew. Maybe they didn't know all the details, but they knew that he was one to be watched. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out unnoticed that evening, but he couldn't think of that yet. He had to do it, that was the only option, and he would find a way.

That evening after dinner, he slipped into his quarters and grabbed a small rucksack from under his cot. He stuffed only a few things into it, extra shoes, shirts, pants and the very little money that he had, and slung it over his shoulders. He moved quietly out of the room, peeking around every corner to make sure no one was watching him, and even though he didn't believe in God, Tommy was starting to feel like he may be watching out for him.

He passed the common area where the other soldiers were again crowded around the radio, more than one bottle of whiskey open and being passed around. No heads turned his way as he rounded the corner, and he said a silent prayer to the God he was about to start believing again. He didn't breathe again until the door was shut behind him, and he was outside, the air feeling cool and free against his skin. He didn't hesitate, moving quickly and quietly towards the club, sticking to the shadows along the way.

When Tommy arrived at the bar, Mia was waiting for him outside. She had a pocket watch in her hand, and her eyes were flicking from it to the streets, eager and searching.

"Tommy, you're here!" Mia was talking quickly, her voice breathy as she tugged Tommy towards the alley, thrusting a piece of paper into his hand. "I found someone who can help you, but it has to be tonight. You have to go get Adam, and bring him to that address. Give them that note when you get there. I don't know where they're taking you, they wouldn't tell me." Her eyes were filled with tears, and her lips quivered. It was so hard for Tommy to see his strong, beautiful friend break down like this, all because of him.

"Hey, hey, don't cry Mia." Tommy wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. "Would you rather be crying because you helped us, or because you didn't? We'll make it out, and someday we'll find you. Yeah?" Even as he said it, Tommy didn't necessarily believe it, but it wanted to, and it felt good to say.

"Yeah, someday, baby." Mia kissed his cheek, leaving one last lipstick smear on his pale skin. "Now go and get your man, and get the hell out of here." She let go reluctantly, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she watched Tommy walk away. As Tommy looked back at her, he had to remind himself again that everything was going to be worth it. Adam was worth it.

_ **Adam and Tommy** _

Tommy pounded loudly at Adam's door, the thin frame shaking with the force of it. It flung open in front of him, and Tommy exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding when he saw Adam standing there, hair standing on end and dressed in sleep clothes.

"Get a bag, and pack only what you need. We're leaving tonight." Tommy burst into the room, throwing his arms around Adam's neck before pushing him towards his dresser to grab clothes.

"What? Tonight? Where are we going? And how?" Adam's questions fell out of his mouth as he threw travelling clothes in his leather shoulder bag, packing even before he got answers.

"Mia. She knows people, and she's amazing. I have no idea where we're going, we won't know till we meet the group." Tommy helped, picking out a pair of sturdy boots and an outfit for Adam to put on now, something other than the thin linen pants he was wearing now.

Mere minutes later they were standing at Adam's door, looking back into the apartment, each of them saying silent goodbyes. Adam spoke first, putting his hands on Tommy's upper arms and turning to face him. "Let's go, baby." He leaned down to kiss Tommy, brief and soft, but meaning everything. From here on out, they were in it together.

It took them more than an hour to get to the address on the paper, a lot outside the city that a train track ran through. In the middle of the lot was a large truck, surrounded by a small crowd of people. Some were skinny, and rough looking and had obviously been on the run for a long time, while others were strong and broad-backed, with rifles and other weapons strapped across their chests. There were women and men, and the only thing everyone of them had in common was the look of pure determination on their faces. None of these people were here to die, and they were doing everything in their power to stay alive.

"Tommy? Adam?" The man who appeared to be the leader spoke first, taking a tentative step towards them. They nodded, and Tommy handed the man the note that Mia had given him, and the look on the man's face relaxed slightly. "I'm Johann. I'm the leader of this group, and I'll be helping us all get the hell out of here. We're aiming for Switzerland, but it's going to be a long haul. You up to it?"

Tommy's voice was small but firm as it came out of him, and he reached over to grab Adam's hand. "We are."

Johann nodded, and turned to introduce them quickly to the group before going over the plan. "There's going to be a cargo train coming through here, and it's going to stop. We have a man on board who's making sure of that. There should be an empty car, and we'll only have a few minutes to pile into it. After that, we're riding it until we're deep in the woods, and then we have to hop out, and move forward on foot." They hear a whistle in the distance, and everyone leapt to attention. "Okay, people. Here we go. It's going to be hard going, but it'll be worth it, yes?"

There was a chorus of "yes!", and fists thrown in the air, and when the train came into view, they moved quickly towards it, staying as low and in the shadows as they could. Adam's hand was wrapped tightly around Tommy's, and it felt like the only thing connecting them to the real world as they clambered into the train car in the mere minutes that it was stopped in front of them. Everything about this night seemed surreal, but as Tommy settled back against Adam's chest in the darkness of the train car, he was okay.

The train ride was silent, no one daring to speak until Johann stood, bracing himself against the wall of the car. "Get ready, we have to jump. The train is going pretty slow, but it's still going to hurt." One after another, Johann directed the passengers out the door of the train, and Adam and Tommy winced every time he heard the thud of a body against the ground. When it was their turn, they moved quickly, taking a deep breath and throwing themselves one after another out of the train, wrapping their arms tightly around their bodies and rolling.

It took several minutes for everyone to find one another, but no one was hurt, just a little dirty and bruised. They started walking together, still silent, towards the horizon where the sun was just coming up and filtering through the think trees. Adam's fingers slid easily through Tommy's as they walked, and they thought about how they didn't know where they were going to sleep tonight, or what they were going to eat, or even if they would make it all the way to Switzerland without getting caught. All they knew, and all they needed to know, was that they had each other, and that made all the uncertainties worth it.


End file.
